Every evening as it begins to set, the porch light flickers and reminds me of her. Most of the time I feel delighted to think of her, to imagine she is thinking of me and of us, of our lives together. Sometimes I even say aloud “Hi Thunder!” But on occasion the light flickers and I am grief-stricken. It’s odd. The light is off just now. It doesn’t usually go off and stay off. It’s almost like she is comprehending my sadness and sharing it with me at this very moment.
This morning my sister and I chatted about our lives here on earth, and pondered on the possibilities of heaven. Thunder was the absolute best dog ever. She was easy going, you could walk her anywhere and never have a problem, and I wish I’d walked her more. She gave Rafa more attention than I do! She was the invisible heartbeat of our house. If heaven doesn’t contain Thunder, I want no part of it.
Tonight I am thinking of my sweet little girl, and I miss her like crazy. Please light, flicker back on – remind me that everything is alright.